Teach Me in Your Arms
by Ivory-Bride
Summary: Sam learns that Frodo has never weeded a garden! *gasp* He teaches Frodo how, but the lesson soon becomes quite cuddly... Fluff! No dirty stuff... WARNING: Slash!


It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I am cooped up in my room, studying the Elven alphabet of Quenya. I wish to learn it all before my 33rd birthday, my coming of age. I brush a strand of hair away from my face with the end of my quill, and my eyes stray towards the window. A warm breeze emanates from it, and the sweet smell of flowers like no others. I smile as I see a small figure crouched over a garden bed. It is you. Samwise Gamgee, the object of my hidden affections, and desires.  
  
You are tugging weeds out of the soil, and humming to yourself. As you toss a rather large weed into a bucket, you sigh, and lean back on your arms. Your face tilts to the sun, and you close your eyes, taking in its warmth. I smile as I admire your features. You are beautiful, and my heart swells with love, and happiness, and pride.  
  
I try to lean forward on my elbows, but I am too caught up in watching you, and I knock over a stack of books piled on my desk. You jump and look up, seeing my face in the window. I try to hide my guilty expression, but you see it, and you laugh.  
  
You laugh a wondrous laugh, tilting your head back, and keeping your glittering emerald eyes on me. I smile, but I don't bother to remove the books from the floor. I don't want to take my eyes from you. When you have finished laughing you give me a gentle smile, and a wave. It is a simple, friendly wave, but the way your fingers linger in the air makes it almost. . . flirtatious.  
  
I blush, and pray you don't notice, but I think you are blushing, too. You turn back to your work with a smile. I should be turning back to mine, but I will never be able to concentrate now. No. I will be thinking of you, instead. Your brilliant smile, your gentle face, and those beautiful emerald eyes that draw me to you.  
  
I close my book and cap my ink before running out the door, and over to you. You are still leaning over the weeds, pulling them up one by one. My shadow passes over you, am you know I am there, but you don't look up. You speak.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Frodo." You're smiling that brilliant smile. I can tell by your tone of voice. I crouch down next to you, with a smile of my own.  
  
"Hello, Sam." I watch your beautiful eyes. "What are you doing?" A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, and your eyes look up at me, but your head is cast downward.  
  
"Don't you tell me you've never weeded a garden before?" you ask. I shake my head 'no' and your smile grows larger as you look up to meet my eyes. Your voice has a tiny laugh in it.  
  
"Well, Mr. Frodo," you pull up a dandelion. "This is a weed." It is tossed into a bucket with the others. "They're bad for the garden. They'll keep multiplying until they're everywhere, and we can't have that." You keep pulling them up and then smile as I frown, for you know what I'm about to say.  
  
"But Sam, I think they're pretty. They look like flowers, and they smell good. How do you know they're weeds?"  
  
"I knew you'd say that," you laugh. "I know because of the way they multiply. They'd take over the whole garden, if I let them, and then they'd suck up all the water from the flowers, and the flowers would die." You stop working, just for a moment, and look up at me. I wonder how you know all this, but I guess you've just learned from experience, from all these years of working in my garden.  
  
"So you just pull them up?" I ask. You nod.  
  
"Yes, but you have to be sure to get the root, or else it'll just come back next year." You pull the last weed from the garden bed, and I follow you to the next. A huge bush-like plant is waiting for you, and you frown at it. I cock my head, not believing what I see.  
  
"That's not a weed?!. . . Is it?" You sigh, and nod in reply.  
  
"Yes, it is. I've been trying to get it up for days, but it's too big. I'd take the axe to it, but I need to get the root so that it doesn't come back next year. You kneel down next to it, and dig around the sides.  
  
"At first I thought it was just a bush, but my gaffer saw it one day, and smacked me upside the head, telling me it was a weed, and now that's it's this big it'll be impossible to dig up." You're face suddenly contorts to a guilty expression.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo! It's my fault for letting it get out of hand!" I smile sympathetically, and kneel down next to you.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Sam. Here. I'll help you." I yank at a branch and fall backwards, with its leaves in my hand. You're suppressing a smile, I can tell, but your eyes show such worry and care for me, that my heart melts. You brush the dirt off my jacket.  
  
"Well, you certainly haven't had proper practice in gardening, have you?" You smile, and brush some dirt from my hair. Your eyes catch mine, and I blush. It's those eyes again, that make my heart flutter. You take my hand and lead me over to a smaller patch of weeds.  
  
"Let's start small. When you pull up a weed, you have to grab it deep down by the roots." I watch as you kneel down and grasp a dandelion by its stem, stirring the soil around it.  
  
"Try to loosen the soil, so that the roots come up easier. Then grab as far down as you can, and. . .pull. With a sleek, swift movement you yank the dandelion, bringing it and its roots right out of the soil. You smile, satisfied, and toss it into a bucket.  
  
"Now you try."  
  
I kneel down next to you, feeling quite confident. You are watching me, expectantly, but you aren't looking at the weed, instead you are looking into my eyes. I look up to meet them and smile, suddenly feeling the need to show off. I loosen the soil, and tug the weed, but do so a bit too soon. Its stem snaps, and its roots are still in the ground. You are laughing, but I glare at the weed. You reach down and pull the roots out of the soil with ease. I turn my glare to you, but it eases into a smile as I see your shining face.  
  
"That's not fair! You made it seem easy!" I whine. You just smile back at me.  
  
"Oh, I never said it was easy, Mr. Frodo. You just assumed it was," you laugh, and pat me on the back as I slouch my shoulders.  
  
"Here, try again. I'll help you this time."  
  
I kneel down to move to another dandelion, ready for another try. You crawl over to me and sit close by my side. My heart skips a beat.  
  
"Okay. First, stir the soil." You place your hands on mine and guide them to the dandelion. Our fingers entwine, and move through the soil as one. You smile and turn a shade of pink. I can feel my own cheeks blushing, but I no longer care.  
  
"Good," you whisper. You blink your eyes out of a trance and you guide my fingers around the dandelion's stem.  
  
"Try to get to the very bottom, as close to the roots as possible." Your hands press against mine, and I feel the roots of the dandelion. I nod.  
  
"I have them."  
  
"Okay, now pull!" Your hands tighten around my own and together we successfully pull up the weed and its roots from the ground. I hold it up in triumph.  
  
"It worked!" I shout, excited. You smile at me, and I smile back, amazed at how happy the tiny event has made me. You nod over to the larger weed.  
  
"Are you ready for the big one?" you ask. I nod in confidence, and add in a low, sultry, yet serious voice,  
  
"With you, Samwise, I'm ready for anything." You blush and I feel my own cheeks turn red as I avert my eyes, and curse myself for the sudden burst of courage.  
  
We kneel by the monstrous weed, and stare at it for a bit. I never would have guessed that it was, but I trust your gardener's knowledge, and I look over to you. You study it for a moment, then nod, and begin to stir the soil around the plant. I follow suit, and keep an eye on you, waiting for you to signal the next step. After a minute, you lean back and bite your bottom lip. I smile to myself, mischievously. It was a gesture I gladly would have done for you, but. . . No. Maybe I'll be able to kiss you in due time, but now we have a job to do. I feel childish, with these thoughts and fantasies running through my head, but I push them aside to do the work at hand.  
  
"We'll need to both tug hard at this one, to get it up," you say. I nod in agreement, and take my place by the weed, grabbing it deep to its roots. You kneel behind me, and again place your hands over mine. I am practically wrapped in your embrace. Your warm, worn hands are on mine, your arms are about me, and I can feel your breath on my neck. I smile to myself, and have the feeling that you are, too.  
  
"Are you ready, Mr. Frodo?" you ask. I nod.  
  
"Ready as I'll ever be."  
  
"Okay, then. On three. One. . .two. . .three!"  
  
We pull hard at the weed, and it gives a tiny bit. We yank at it, and pull at it, and struggle with it. Bit by bit, the plant gives way, and soon it is half way out of the dirt. We stop tugging, and rest for a bit.  
  
"Almost there," you say. I nod and look over my shoulder, where I see your eyes, happy to meet mine. I return your smile and my heart jumps as I feel your hand on my shoulder. You gently pull me back, and then lean in to meet me. Our faces are inches apart, and I have a terrible yearning to lean in and kiss your lips. However, I manage to control myself.  
  
You look as though you mean to do something, but then just close your eyes and touch your forehead to mine. You give a gentle smile, and whisper softly,  
  
"Let's finish this."  
  
I turn back to the plant, with every intention to pull it up this time, but as I am about to lean in and grasp its roots, something stops me. You gently lean in behind me and kiss my neck, ever so softly. I gasp, and turn to your gaze. You give a mischievous grin and say simply,  
  
"Come on now, the weed won't pull itself up." My eyes soften, and sparkle to yours, and I would dearly love to return the favor, but you won't let me, right now. I turn back to the weed and grasp its roots. You lean in closer behind me this time, and your fingers gently stoke my own before tightening around them.  
  
"One. . .two. . .three!"  
  
We pull and tug at the weed once more, struggling with it, and begging it to come loose. It gives way slowly, and we're almost there. . . Almost. . . We both get an idea at the same instant. You gently push me forward, and then we snap backwards, giving a last sharp yank. The weed suddenly springs out of the ground. I lose my balance and fall on top of you. We are laughing, and I have the weed in my hands. Lying on your back, with me on top of you, you wrap your arms around me, and hold me tightly.  
  
"Well, now. I guess all it took was teamwork." I laugh and toss the weed to the side, rolling onto my stomach, and hoping I'm not squishing you. Your smile only grows wider, and I return it, happily.  
  
"Well, Sam. Your gaffer was wrong. We did get that old weed out. It just took two hobbit's strength to do it!" I smile at you. Your eyes are shining brightly, and you are content. Those emerald eyes melt my heart.again. I lean down to you, slowly and kiss your lips, which are slightly parted in wait for me. Your warmth engulfs me, and I am happier than I have ever been.  
  
I feel your hand reach up to run through my hair, and I break the kiss with a smile. I sigh, and rest my head on your chest. I feel safe and warm in your embrace. Your arms around me are gentle as a mother to her child, and I think of my own mother, as my eyes water. Your face fills with concern, and you tighten your arms about me and kiss my forehead.  
  
"Frodo?! Frodo, what's wrong?!" You ask, alarmed and concerned for me. I smile, not meaning to scare you.  
  
"Nothing, Sam. Nothing is wrong anymore." You aren't convinced; I can still see the worry in your eyes. I want to make it fade away, so I kiss your neck and whisper into your ear.  
  
"Sam. . .I love you." I nestle into the crook of your neck, and your face beams with pride.  
  
"I love you too, Mr. Frodo. So much. . ." I smile and fall asleep in your arms. I'm so comfortable; I don't plan on waking for quite a while.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
I sleep for hours in your arms, and when I wake, it is because you have kissed me, and I feel your lips, soft and tender, on mine. My eyes flutter open.  
  
"Mr. Frodo," you laugh. "We've been out here for hours, and I believe it's now suppertime." I hear your stomach rumble, and I laugh, knowingly.  
  
"Well then, let's get something to eat," I say. I kiss you once more before standing up. You rise after me and gasp as you see my filthy coat.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Frodo! Your beautiful coat is all dirty!" You brush dirt from my coat and I smile at you, and take your hands in mine. Your caring eyes fill with admiration.  
  
"It's alright, Sam. It's just a coat. Let's go in for dinner."  
  
You nod, and we walk inside, hand-in-hand. I am so happy to be with you now, and I hope we will be together always. You lift my hand to your lips and kiss it gently. Your eyes are gleaming with love and happiness. I smile. Yes. We will be together forever. 


End file.
